You keep all these memories of a girl whose company you enjoyed in the folds of your brain and the crevices between your bones.
You drink to talk about her to your friends without sounding like a complete fool. You blame it on the alcohol but you think of her even while having breakfast at your grandma's house.
I'm sorry that she became more to you than just a passing thing, but she wasn't looking for love. During all your travels, forever was never in the itinerary.
She was just trying to make it through the day.
You didn't know her enough to tell that she was faking a smile. You thought you saw her eyes sparkle but that was just starlight bouncing off black mirrors.
You remember how it felt to be with her. And then you ask yourself: How could someone so empty make you feel so complete?
